The Heart Can Learn
by I painted the kitten
Summary: Ever since Maureen, Mark has been alone. With the introduction of an old friend of Mimi's, will that change for the better...or worse? Rated T for a handful of cursing and a mild sex scene later on. R&R!
1. Chapter 1

_Disclaimer: No, I don't own Rent….I lease. (Bad pun that everyone makes, I know, but I had to. At least I changed it a bit.) Gaby, though, is a character of my own design._

_Synopsis: Ever since Maureen, Mark has been alone. With the introduction of Mimi's old friend, could that change? Rated K+ for a handful of cursing and a mild sex scene later on…_

A squeal rang around the halogen lights followed by a dull thud. Mimi was nearly tackled to the ground before she could figure out who- or what- had uttered the noise.

"Mimi!"

Of course, Mimi thought. Who else but Gaby? One of the few girls she was fond of at the Catscratch, the leather and lace-clad girl that stood before her nearly bounced from joy. She and Gaby had gotten close over the hardships of being a young girl thriving in bohemia. The two were quite a sight on stage.

"Where the hell have you been?" Gaby questioned with a look of relief and maternal scolding.

What a loaded question.

"I was…sick. You know," Mimi mused. Gaby simply nodded and dragged her friend to the mirror claimed by them both. "But I'm back."

"That's good. We were all getting worried." A smile crept over Gaby's face and she shook her head. "That's a lie. I was worried. Everyone else has been swimming in your abandoned cash."

The two laughed a little. Mimi, having just arrived, began to apply her mask of cosmetics while her friend only added a touch of glitter here and a little lip-gloss there. Both were relieved to get back to the routine they knew.

"So," Mimi started, adding an oil slick of black liquid liner along the curvature of her eyes, "Roger's back from Santa Fe."

"You're with him again, I'm assuming?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Well," Gaby grinned, "would you really be talking about him otherwise?"

Mimi looked at her friend with a warm smile. Gaby had a way of making an uncanny amount of sense all of the time. It was lucky for Mimi; she'd constantly be in a lot more trouble if it weren't for Gaby's clear head.

"How are…" Gaby's sentence was cut off by a dainty sneeze and a cloud of pink, shimmery power. "…things now?" she asked, dusting the rose dust off her skirt and table and blushing profusely.

"I don't really know. Great, I guess. It's still early. He did write me a song though."

"A song?" Her dusting stopped abruptly.

"Mmhm." It was all Mimi could muster. As much as she loved it, it was painful to remember the circumstances in which she'd heard it.

"I don't trust him. When do I get to meet him?" Gaby's eyes were expressionless and her lips were pursed. She looked crossed between confused and disapproving. It was less than appealing.

"I don't know… I guess it hadn't occurred to me for you two to meet." Gaby's attempt at hiding her hurt caught Mimi's eye but had flickered away as quickly as it had developed. Gaby didn't quite let the more dramatic of emotions get to her.

"What the hell are you bitches doing back here!" screamed a stage manager for the club. His head looked severed as it poked out of the doorway. "GET ON STAGE!"

Both girls looked at each other and held back grins.

"Soon. I promise. You'll meet everyone."

Gaby only smiled in return as she quickly laced the buckle of her stilettos with nimble fingers.

"Speeeeaaaaaaaaaak."

"Roger? Mark? Don't bother screening. It's me, Mimi. I'm at the Catscratch now and I'll be here for a bit longer. Roger, give me a call, okay? I've got a…a question for you."

Beep.

Roger flung the heavy loft door shut just as Mimi hung up. He threw up one arm in desperation and sauntered over to the phone. He held his guitar by its neck in one hand and the pathetic remnants of a sandwich in the other. His fingers flew over the buttons, punching in the club's number by memory. The phone was grasped between his broad shoulder and ear as the dial tone buzzed.

"Hey baby. Catscratch club, Mimi speaking. How can I help _you_?" Mimi cooed. The lust laced in her voice made Roger's fists clench. It was painful reminder of what exactly his girlfriend did for a living. He tried constantly to forget that the love of his life was groped nightly by the sleaze of Alphabet City.

"Mimi, it's Roger."

Her voice brightened and a smile replaced the sexual ring of her voice. "Roger! There you are! Were you by the phone?"

"No, no. I just walked in the door. I'd been out putting up posters for Maureen's next show. And," he stared at the slimy remnants on the counter, "getting dinner. Have you started work yet?"

"Nah. I just got here too. I'm getting dressed."

"Getting dressed is always good."

Silence.

"Apparently I'm not funny today," Roger bantered.

"Are you ever?"

Silence again.

"Alright Mimi, out with it."

Roger could clearly picture the expression on Mimi's face and her little movements: she would furrow her brow slightly, look to both of her sides, glance down over the receiver and her eyes would glaze over starring at her shoes. It was as though a movie was whirring behind his eyes.

"With what?"

"Mimi. Come on now."

"I…" The remainder of her breath for the sentence hissed into the receiver and she shuffled her words around in her head. "You're having dinner tomorrow."

"Actually, that depends on whether I have the money, but I was intending on eating."

"No, I mean, I'm coming over…and so is a friend of mine."

Roger pulled the phone away from his head and looked at it curiously. No sound came from the speaker so he brought it back to his ear and laughed slightly. "Is that all? Seriously? Is she an axe murderer? Fugitive? Ex-boyfriend? …. Ex-girlfriend?" he added jokingly, trying to ignore the worried feeling in his stomach.

"No! Her name's Gaby. She's from the club."

A sigh of release rushed through his lips and he smiled. "Alright, that's fine! We might not be eating more than barbeque chips and powered mashed potatoes, but we'll certainly eat."

"Good. So, how was your-"

"GET ON STAGE!" A gruff voice bounced from the walls into the receiver.

"Sorry Roger, I have to run. I'll see you tomorrow?" Her words were rushed.

"Of course."

"Great. Don't exclude anyone. I don't care who comes."

"Okay. I'll see who'll be around."

"You're amazing Roger. I've got to run…"

"Mimi?"

There was quiet on the other end for a moment. "Yes?"

"I love you."

The breath of a smile was heard before a murmured reply and a click.

"Damn Mimi. What's the problem with your friend? It sounds like she's some horrible person. How exactly am I supposed to feed…anyone? Including me? Oh well. God knows I'd do anything for her. Procuring food will be kinda impossible," he mused, "but I'll figure it out." Roger reached a hand behind his neck and retreated to the couch.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

"Shit!" Roger exclaimed, jumping off the couch and rushing to the phone.

"Speeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaak."

"Damn it," he mumbled.

"Hey Rog, it's Mark. Don't worry about picking up if you're there. Just want to let you know that my footage of the college riots made it to Buzzline. I know, I know, it's horrible, but I'm getting used to actually having money. It's a stepping ladder to the major networks. Alexi is so convincing. She heard that my film was finished and… I'm getting off track. Just wanted to let you know I'll buy dinner tonight to celebrate…"

"Mark!" Roger said, snatching the phone up.

"Hey there! You heard me, then?"

"Yeah. How about we postpone that dinner until, say, tomorrow?"


	2. Chapter 2

_I've had a decent response for my first chapter, so here's number 2! This chapter gets more into the story's plot. I hope you enjoy. Please please please please PLEASE review!_

* * *

"When you're dancing her dance, you don't stand a chance," Mark murmured, jingling his keys to separate the house key he desired. An old tune swam in his head, one he knew he recognized, but for reasons he couldn't put his finger on. "Her grip of romance makes you fall… Ah, finally, here it is." He shifted the paper grocery bags in his arms so he could reach the door. 

He shoved the key into the lock and jiggled it quickly. The pop of the freeing lock echoed in the nearly vacant stairwell. The wall of a door slid heavily open, displaying the godforsaken loft they inhabited. Rock and roll posters still hung on the walls, although they were of a newer variety. Roger had been bringing in a plethora of them, which Mark took to be the clubs' compensation for the lack of a plethora of money. It was going to take time for Roger's old fans to come back. The loft otherwise looked as dismal as ever, with the extension chord still snaking around the furniture and wood burning stove still warning about its temperature in annoying fire engine red. Mid-spring humidity crept in through the ever-open skylight. Home sweet home? Sure, why not.

Mark hummed inattentively and dropped his keys on the counter. His stomach was growling and he was excited to be able to set down his bags and start on some sort of dinner.

"You aren't going to let me in?"

Mark swung around, looking around the loft. The voice seemed to come from nowhere. It sounded like it could have been Mimi, although there was no sign of any accent and the voice was a little kinder. Playful like Mimi, but less seductive. Mark assumed it was their mystery guest for the night. He walked out the door and peered throughout the stairs. There wasn't anyone there.

"Hello?" he called, looking on the floors below and above him. It seemed the light bulbs had burnt out in the stairs above him that led to the roof. That must be where she was hiding. "Anyone…up there?"

As his eyes adjusted to the dark upstairs, he noticed a sneaker swinging in mid air. It was a black high top and it dangled from under the railing above him. He traced the shoe up to a leg, to a body that was sitting on the next floor. He thought he could see slender hands wrapped around the poles of the railing.

"Are you Mark?"

"That's what they call me."

In one swoop, the figure slipped under the bar and dangled right in front of Mark's confused face. Her skin was much lighter than Mimi's, with long, wavy, creamy auburn locks that were loosely tied up on her head. Pale lips slipped over white teeth in a smile. Her eyes were cautious but friendly, twinkling gray-brown. She wore simple jeans that had the occasional hole. It was obvious those spots were genuinely worn in. Hanging from the railing caused her gray t-shirt to ride up slightly, showing off a curvatious figure. One of her hands unlaced from the bar and extended to shake his. She hung crooked, due to her change in position.

"Hola, Mark."

Mark tentatively grabbed her hand and shook it. This was one unusual girl…

…Who apparently didn't think this through, Mark thought, as he peered at the ground, which lay obviously offset from her feet.

"Pleasure to meet you. Gaby, right?" he asked, trying not to laugh. She nodded. "So Gaby…how exactly did you intend to get down?"

"Like this…" She started to swing slightly but stopped herself when she saw how inaccurately she'd judged her landing pad. "Great," she snickered, attempting to swing her other arm up to the bar before realizing her and Mark were still holding hands. She grinned and motioned to his hand.

"You're going to pull yourself up?" She nodded. "No, no, don't bother with that. I'll help you out." He pulled the hand he held behind his neck and rested his arm under the crook of her knees. "Now let go, slowly, please, and I'll catch you. Don't give me that look, I won't drop you! You're Mimi's friend. Any friend of hers is a friend of mine. I don't drop friends." She held her breath and let go of the bar above her. She dropped down, somewhat clumsily, and although Mark staggered, he held her strong in his arms.

"Thanks," she mumbled and smiled. She looked directly into his eyes and it wasn't until then that Mark had worried his knees would give out.

The two remained there for a moment. Gaby was surprised the skinny blond bohemian was strong enough to hold her for as long as he was. Mark's touch was soft and he held her close to him. This wasn't just a rescue attempt, she thought. He knew he should feel strange holding her like he was, but he was just happy. They stood without moving, no expectations, completely at ease in an utterly odd situation.

"Wow, guys. Apparently you really hit it off."

Both heads snapped to attention towards the couple walking up the stairs. Roger's leather-jacketed arm was protectively draped around Mimi's shoulder and both were smiling.

"Roger, I'd like to introduce you to my best friend Gaby."

Roger jokingly extended a hand and was surprised when the arm that held around the front of Mark's neck let go and reached out. She wore a friendly smile.

"Hey there, Roger."

* * *

The clanking of mismatched plates rang through the loft. A stained silver pot full of tap water boiled on the lone hot plate. Macaroni noodles danced in the bubbling water. The Bohemians were scattered around the loft. Mimi leaned on the counter, fiddling with the shiny packet of fake orange cheese. Mark hovered over the pot with a long-handled spoon. The flushed red shade that his face had recently been due to embarrassment had not entirely faded. Gaby sat cross-legged on the heavy metal table, twinkling eyes pressed into slits by her smile, ripping a dull head of lettuce into a bowl. Roger lounged on the couch, picking stray strings on his guitar and telling them all a story from the bar the night before. 

"So, our set's over and the girl comes back, but this time, her hair is out of the pigtails and she has no pants on. I'm thinking, 'Shit, this isn't a good start'. She pulls a sharpie out of God knows where and winks at me," Roger recounted. "Needless to say, I ran."

The others doubled over in laughter and Roger grinned at his impressive story-telling ability. The chuckles slowly died out and silence filled the loft as each messed with their respective tasks. The silence wasn't deafening, exactly, but it did ring in all of their ears. Roger broke the silence first.

"So…what exactly were you and Gaby doing when we got here, Mark?"

Mimi's head snapped up and she implored the two with her eyes and raised eyebrows. Mark furrowed his own, trying to figure out what to say. Apparently the lettuce head suddenly became more tedious and Gaby gave it her full attention.

What did they have to be embarrassed about? Mark thought. They hadn't done anything. But the looks they exchanged. They weren't exactly sinful but they must have meant something. Perhaps they didn't. Mark had felt a spark between them. Having someone to hold felt so right. It wasn't like being with Maureen, all about the sex and excitement. It had never occurred to him at the time that there was anything else. But had Gaby noticed it? Did she feel anything remotely close to what he did?

No words came out of Mark's mouth and his eyes glazed over in thought. All the while, Mimi and Roger watched him curiously. Gaby glanced timidly up from her bowl and noticed Mark spacing out. She wanted so badly to laugh out loud at him but something inside of her said that it probably wouldn't be a good idea. What was going on in that head? That was something Gaby would die to know. She had to save the poor guy though. It wasn't fair for her to have hung him out to dry like that.

"It was my fault," she started, shrugging. "I was stuck on the railing on Mimi's floor. Couldn't get off. Mark was lending me a hand."

Roger's expression switched from entertained to confused. "Stuck on the railing? How exactly does one manage that?"

"Easy. I swung down from the floor up there and the ground was further than I had anticipated."

Roger's expression had not changed from the explanation. Mimi nodded and returned to her squishing. Her expression was soft, mildly amused but not at all confused. Roger turned to Mimi, expecting to see an identical look of surprise on her face.

"Mimi?" he exclaimed, "You believe that!"

"Mmhm." She glanced up, smiling while she nodded. Roger's mouth dropped open. "What? I know Gaby. It's not really that weird."

Mark had slowly begun to slip out of his daze and had had full control of his consciousness by Mimi's last comment. He took only a second to register what had happened. Gaby had covered for him. (Maybe it wasn't exactly covering; his neck wasn't the only one on the chopping block.) But it wasn't weird? Mark smiled to himself. What was it about him and unusual women? If Maureen wasn't unusual, no one could possibly be.

Mark cocked an eyebrow in Gaby's direct. She smiled warmly and he noticed the slight twitch of a shrug in her shoulder.


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey everyone! Just as a quick forewarning...this chapter involves separate scenes that I've mushed together. Its a little confusing but it'd fairily important to the timing of the chapter. Enjoy!**

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Roger was getting really sick of the whir of Mark's camera. That damned arm was continuously twirling; Mark had been filming every little thing. He had no concept for a new movie. "If I get enough footage, an idea'll come," he would say. The first time it was said, it rang with determination and faith. It'd now faded into background noise. Even Mark didn't believe his own words.

Roger hadn't been doing much better, creatively. He'd managed to crank out a few companions to "Your Eyes" but his inspiration had dried up. He was happy with his life now. Everything was great. But frankly? Great sucked when it came to songwriting. Roger need angst, frustration…anything, for Christ's sake.

_Sensual music poured softly through the speakers of the Cat Scratch. Girls twirled on poles, standing on round, lighted platforms. Skuzzy men sat around their feet. Bills beaconed in their eager hands. The smell of strong alcohol and sickening perfume wafted around the seats, although it was paid no mind. The music paused and the lights dimmed. All of the regulars snapped their attention to the mirrored stage in the back of the open club. A young man and his bachelor party watched curiously as the men clamored over around the stage. A maiden with long, chocolate brown hair kinked up in tight curls slowly walked out from the left wing. Mimi smiled; they were all drooling over her metallic bra and her barely there pleated skirt. Her lengthy, tan legs flowed from underneath the skirt, criss-crossing black fishnets ending in thigh high baby giraffe-spotted boots. She raised her hand towards the other wing and seductively beaconed. Gaby answered her call. She walked to center stage. She wore a high cut skirt and a fuzzy pink bra. Lace panties teased the men from under said skirt. Her heels bore near deadly stilettos and the straps snaked up her sculpted calves. The two danced to the catcalls of the horny men and their waving cash. Satisfied at the end of their show with the tips they'd earned, they returned to their humble abode, the mirrored dressing table they shared._

"Marky!" Roger called. Maybe this wouldn't be any inspiration but it would surely be amusing.

"What?" he called back, distracted and slightly agitated.

Roger grinned like an idiot but said nothing. (He was seriously invoking the spirit of Maureen.) Mark hadn't looked away from the eye piece of his camera before but did now with a scowl.

"Dammit Roger, whadaya want? Can't you see I'm working?" Mark snapped.

"I don't know. And you aren't working anyway. I don't need a camera permanently fused to my eye to see that."

Mark seemed to be so upset that he was near growling. Roger felt the twinge of genuine fear of him. For a skinny thing, he was tough. He needed to think fast to reroute Mark's fury.

"You know Gaby?"

Sure, it was probably a bad idea, but it was the first thing that came to mind and there was a chance it would work. A slight chance.

At the mention of her name, Mark's furrowed brow relaxed slightly and his eyes released some of their squinting tension. He refused, however, to let himself smile and his expression remained neutral.

"Yeah. What about her?"

_"Do you ever wonder if what we do is…wrong?" Gaby asked, wiping her eye shadow off with one of the club's rough, cheap tissues. It was a simple question and her face matched its nonchalant nature._

"_What? How is it wrong?" Mimi questioned. Her fishnets had twisted during one of her more violent dance moves and she bent over to right them._

"_I guess it isn't wrong," she began, "but do you ever wonder? I mean, it isn't something I go around advertising. I can't even imagine being on a date with some great guy and the topic of jobs comes up. He's some executive on Wall Street or the next Jimmy Hendrix and I have to tell him…what? That I'm a stripper? How exactly could one sugar coat that?"_

_Mimi straightened back up and bit her lip in thought. Silence filled the room and only the slight hum of the harsh halogen lights was heard. It had never been a question to Mimi. Stripping never seemed wrong. It was dangerous, edgy, and definitely sexy…but never immoral. Gaby's timid approach to the whole idea was alien to her; she didn't know what to say._

"_You know yourself," Mimi started unsurely, "and you know what kind of person you are. Your job doesn't define who you are. You shouldn't let it, anyway." She shrugged._

"_I guess," Gaby murmured._

"_What sparked this, exactly?"  
_

_Gaby stopped her rubbing and stared at herself in the mirror. The corners of her lips trembled in some semblance of a smile but her expression quickly dropped back to normal._

"_Nothing really. Train of thought?" she said, seemingly addressing herself._

"_That train wouldn't happen to be the Mark Cohen Express, would it?"_

"What about her?" Mark repeated, after Roger hadn't answered him. He quickly turned away and walked to the window. He winded his camera and started to film without really seeing what was the on the other side of the lens.

"You like her." Roger watched Mark's dawdling around the window. "You do." It was not a question or an accusation. It was simply a statement, as though Roger was informing Mark of something he wasn't already fully aware of.

"What…how'd you get that impression?" He stammered, trying to get the arm of his camera to spin convincingly. At this point, all it seemed to do was jam in one spot and click there accusatorily. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Come on, Mark!" Roger said jokingly. When his fair-haired friend didn't turn around and playfully punch him in the shoulder, his tone grew a little less teasing. "Mark, seriously, come 'ere. We both know very well that there is nothing worth filming down there. You have plenty of film of the Blanket Lady sleeping. I have a feeling she holds no inspiration for you."

Mark dropped his camera from his eye but make no attempt to walk away. Both hands distractedly held it in front of his stomach and he continued to stare at the slush on the street.

"_That's quite a leap, Miss Marquez!" Gaby laughed._

"_Maybe it is, maybe it isn't." Mimi's grin widened. "You wouldn't happen to have a little…thing…for Mark, would you?"_

_Gaby considered the idea for a moment, bit her lip and stared at herself in the mirror. It was as though she was picturing Mark next to her, sizing up the possibility of them being together. When she finally spoke, the words were well-thought out, albeit a little confused._

"_Actually, no, I don't. I feel like…like I should. Not that I'm obligated necessarily but I have no idea why I don't. Mark **is** my type. He's intelligent and together; he has a goal. It's not like he isn't attractive, because he is…quite a bit so, really. I felt a spark that day, I think. Maybe I didn't. I haven't felt a spark in so many years." She smiled slightly. "Maybe this stripper just doesn't remember what its like to be in love anymore. That's what I get for soaking myself in lust for all these years. Mark is definitely amazing but I just don't want to be with him."_

_Mimi had, in Gaby's talk, migrated to sitting cross-legged on the table. She turned to face the mirror and looked at her own reflection next to her friend's. Gaby hadn't noticed the prominent dark circles that had formed under Mimi's eyes until then. Her skin looked paler too. It was a scary discovery and Gaby quickly put it out of her mind._

"_Do you think," Mimi started, " it isn't that you don't want to be with him, but that you don't want him to be with you? Are you trying to save him from yourself?"_

_The comment would typically offend but Gaby simply considered it. She was rather critical of herself and took the statement at face value._

"_Yeah. Maybe I am."_

"What's the matter?" Roger asked. "You're never this weird about anything…even girls." An evanescent thought of a question in Mark's sexuality crossed his mind for a moment but he quickly brushed it off.

Mark whipped around quickly. Obviously, Roger had hit a nerve. "I'm not being weird about anything!" he snapped. "And by the way, last time I checked, you weren't exactly the king of relationships. Look at you and Mimi, broken up, back together, broken up, back together. Like hell you could give me any advice!"

Roger flinched slightly and withdrew to his guitar bitterly. Mark had completely crossed the line. He was only interested in helping and Mark still snapped at him. How dare he? On second thought, Roger grabbed his guitar and retreated to the window to scale the fire escape down to Mimi's room. He wasn't sure if she was at work still, but either way, he'd wait for her. Anything to get away from Mark. He roughly ran his shoulder into Mark's as he passed.

He nearly dropped his camera and the endangerment of his beloved machine snapped Mark back to reality. "Roger…Rog, wait! I'm sorry! Come back!" The words sounded pitiful as he hung out the window and shouted at his friend.

The Blanket Lady looked at the two of them, thoroughly pissed off. "Shut the hell up, white boy! Some of us are trying to sleep!" she hollered.

"Go sleep in a damn quiet dumpster, bitch!" Mark yelled back. She looked up at him with a cocked eyebrow, murmured something very rude under her breath and went back to sleeping on the sidewalk. Mark turned his attention back to his friend. "Roger, I didn't mean it, I'm sorry. You just…what you said just hit me the wrong way. You know I didn't mean any of what I said."

Roger had begun down the stairs already and stared straight ahead, his knuckles bleaching from his tight grip on the rail. "You know not to go there, man. You know that was too far."

"And you know that I know. You know I love Mimi just as much of any of us. You were just trying to help me out. I completely overreacted and I'm sorry." He shrugged his shoulders in surrender.

Roger turned around with a furrowed brow and a frown. He was honestly hurt and Mark felt horrible for wounding his best friend. Roger said nothing and walked back in the house. Mark was left on the balcony staring into their loft for a moment before following him. Roger had curled up on the far end of the couch and Mark stayed on the window sill, forehead on the window and eyes searching around outside.

"You're right, though. I do like her. I really like her." He didn't turn and seemed to be talking to himself. "I just…wow. She's amazing. I'm completely smitten and I've only known her for one day. It's scary. The last person that I've been so into so quickly…well, actually…it was Maureen. And that turned out fabulously, didn't it?" Mark grimaced, which Roger could see in his reflection. "I turned her into a lesbian."

Roger started slowly at first, trying not to giggle. After he could no longer hold them back, he let himself only chuckle a little. It mounted little by little until he was doubled over, not breathing, no noise coming out. Mark didn't notice at first but the snorting caught his attention. He was a little offended that it had struck his friend as so funny but soon he was laughing along with him. Every time their laughter started to subside, something else about it struck them as funny and they continued snorting.

After the two had calmed down, which took around twenty minutes, Roger looked at his friend seriously. "You're such an idiot sometimes. You didn't turn Mo into a lesbian. She's just weird like that. It's not like you're the Midas of homosexuals or anything, don't worry. I have a feeling Gaby will be straight…no matter how horrible of a boyfriend you are."

Mark gaped playfully and tackled Roger on the couch. He had a firm hold on Roger's shoulders and was bouncing him up and down on the old sofa. Both of them were laughing.

"_You aren't some monster, Gab; there's no reason to protect him," Mimi commented._

"_I know, I know. I'm not horrible. I just want to be single now. It has nothing to do with Mark. I like him an awful lot though."_

_Mimi turned to her friend and looked her straight in the eye. "If Mark came up to you right now, walked right into this dressing room and asked you out on a date, what would you say?"_

_Gaby considered it a moment and smiled. "Well, I'd have to first say, 'What the hell, Mark? Get out of our dressing room, you pervert! If you wanna see a show, go out to the floor, not in here!'" Her smile fell slightly. "After that, I'd have to decline."_

"You know," Roger said from underneath Mark's grip, "if you like Gaby so much, then do something about it! I thought I saw some chemistry between you two on the stairs. Give a shot. What can you lose?"

Any semblance of dignity, Mark thought. He tried to put that idea out of his head, although it was being quite stubborn. "You're right. I should do something. Yeah, I should! Maybe I will."

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**There we go! I know it took a while but hopefully it was worth the wait. The plot thickens, as they say. Please review and give me some criticism! I love to hear any and every opinion. Even if all you have to say is "Great job!" or "You suck, go die!", say it. The world will be a better place! (Especially your reviews, Snarky! I love them!)**

** EDiT: I've edited the story a little bit because I'm a total dumbhead.  
**


	4. Chapter 4

"I don't understand how they can live in this damn building," Gaby murmured. It was around eleven o'clock in the morning and Gaby was heading up the stairs to Mimi's apartment. She had just stepped on a particularly rickety stair and, in reaching for the hand rail, realized it wasn't there. Instead of steadying herself, she collapsed in a clumsy heap on the next stair up. She shook her head as she tried to pull herself to standing. "Stupid stairs."

She made her way to the second to top floor and rapped lightly on Mimi's door. "Mims, open up, it's me." She waited a moment but surprisingly got no answer. She knocked again. "Mimi! Come on, let me in. I worked late last night, not you. _You_ got off early. You're always awake by now." Gaby pounded on the door. She was quickly getting impatient. She tried the handle; it was locked. That was no help. She pounded the door with her fist. "Mimi? Mimi! Get up, you lazy bum! Are you really going to leave your best friend out here?"

Furious with her situation, Gaby took a half step back from the door. After a quick eyeing of the hall, she realized…that she was getting upset with a door to no avail. "Well, duh, damn it," she murmured to herself and grasped the handle. She twisted it the opposite direction, jerked it down, and twisted it back the other way while pulling to the left. The lock clicked open and Gaby finally smiled. Maybe they're unreliable building was good for something.

She pushed the door open and searched Mimi's apartment quickly. When she saw no signs of her friend, she walked in. Her keys sat on the small counter and the clothes she'd worn to work the night before were slung over a chair; Mimi had obviously been there. There was, however, no sign of her being there now.

"Maybe she went up to Roger's," she mused out loud. Deciding that that made the most sense, she quickly relocked the door, shut it tightly and took the stairs to the highest floor. She took the flight very carefully, tapping each step gingerly with her foot before putting all her weight on it. It took her much longer to get upstairs.

She noticed, once she finally got to their floor, that the bohemians' door was open part of the way. Gaby wasn't one to barge into the houses of people she'd only briefly met. But, she figured, they were Mimi's closest friends and so, by default, they could be considered friends of hers.

She pushed open the heavy door as quietly as she could, peering in. Her head was between the frame and door itself and she searched the room. It was just as she remembered, open and dingy. She spotted obesely large metal tables and thought of Roger's ridiculous story. The door was now open just enough for Gaby to fit through and that she did, standing uncomfortably in the loft. She took a few steps in and was ready to call for her best friend when she caught sight of what she probably shouldn't have.

Roger and Mimi both lay on the couch, Mimi on top of him. The two were getting rather hot and heavy and did not look as though they should be disturbed. Gaby's lips turned up in an embarrassed smile and she turned to sneak out.

"I see Mimi is much too busy for me at the moment. I guess I show myself out," she chuckled. "Normal people close the door when they're about to have – oof!"

Her sentence was cut off by a certain filmmaker. In her rambling, she hadn't noticed Mark walking into the loft paying an equal amount of attention. She had been walking quickly and bounced off Mark. The thud of her head rang through the stairwell and loft.

- - - - - - -

"If you do that, you're going to drop her!"

"I'm not going to drop her, idiot!"

"If you hold her there, you will."

"Well, if we do it your way, we'll probably break her in half!"

"No, we won't!"

"Would you two boys just shut up!"

Gaby wasn't sure how long she had been lying on the floor. It felt like the group was trying to pick her up but was just succeeding in jostling her around and hollering at each other. Her head was throbbing horribly and she wasn't sure she would be able to move any time soon. Of course, the yelling wasn't helping anything.

"I agree with Mimi," Gaby murmured, feeling waves of pain shoot from that back of her head to her temples. "Oww."

"Gaby!" Mimi squealed, shoving Roger out of her face and leaning over her friend. "Gabs, are you okay?"

"That remains to be seen," she whispered. Before she closed her eyes again, she noticed Roger and Mimi kneeling beside her shoulders and Mark crouched near her knee. Her ankles were at the doorframe and her feet were sticking out of the room. Roger's hand still grasped Gaby's shoulder, although lightly, and Mark's hand was cupped around her ankle.

"Gaby, I am so sorry! I completely didn't see you! I wasn't paying any attention and you just kind of appeared. I didn't mean to. I'm so sorry!" Mark said, trying to look at Gaby but finding it hard. She looked so helpless and he felt so horrible. It was a bad combination.

Gaby opened her eyes again and looked at her upset friend. "Oh, Mark. Marky? It wasn't your fault. I didn't see you either. I was the one walking so fast. It's okay." She smiled weakly at him.

Mark felt his heart drop a mile and he tried to smile back. How is that the day he intends on asking Gaby out, he barrels her over and nearly kills her. "Okay," he squeaked out.

It was then that Gaby remembered the loud clank she heard before her own head hit the ground. "Mark! Your camera! Is it okay?" she worriedly asked.

He looked over at the camera with a slight grimace. Gaby hadn't noticed it lying pathetically by the wall. She had limited knowledge of most electronics but she had a feeling that the arm wasn't supposed to bend that way.

"It'll be…okay."

Gaby looked at the forced smile on his face and wondered if he was telling the truth. "What happened, exactly?" she questioned, knowing full well what the answer would be.

"I was holding the camera when I walked in. When I reached out to try to catch you," he shrugged, "it fell."

"I'm so sorry, Mark," Gaby said quietly.

"Don't worry about it. It'll be fine, I'm sure. As long as you're okay," he replied. "Hey Roger, do we have anything frozen for Gaby's head?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Yeah, I think we have a bag of peas in the freezer," Roger said, jumping up. He stuck his head in the little box and starting pushing things around. "Man, there's ice on everything! I can't read what any of this is. Give me a minute, Gaby. I'll have something as quick as I can."

Gaby tried to laugh and turned her head back to facing the ceiling. Mimi sat back on her heels. "Now that we know you're okay, I was wondering something. What brings you to the loft?" Mimi asked.

"If you must know, I was looking for you! Your apartment was empty and I figured I'd look up here before I got worried." Gaby slowly turned her head to face Mimi. "I've got a question for you. Why'd you leave your keys upstairs?"

"My door wasn't locked."

"Yes, it was."

"No, it definitely wasn't."

"Mimi, I had to unlock it."

"Damn it! I hate that door! It must have locked on its own."

The two starting laughing. Mark, on the other hand, watched them with confused curiosity. Roger was still preoccupied with his head in the freezer. None of them noticed the figure that walked into the doorway.

He has a distinctive swagger that had started when he was only a teenager and had followed him to this day. He held a brown paper bag of groceries in one arm and the other was poised to knock on the already open door. A metal ring with keys jangling from it was held tightly between his teeth. He looked around at the obvious semi-chaos and started the chuckle until he saw who was on the floor. His mouth dropped open and the keys fell to the ground. The clatter of them on the floor brought everyone to attention.

"Gaby?"

At the sound of her name, she pulled herself up to her elbows quickly. The jerk caused a head rush and make the throbbing in her skull worse. After blinking away the block spots and pain, her eyes widened to saucer proportions.

"Professor Collins!"


	5. Chapter 5

The group barely avoided speaking in unison like a cartoon.

"Professor?" was murmured by all. The confused friends did nothing to faze the two staring at each other. Collins extended a strong hand to pull her upwards and Gaby's own slender one was enveloped in it. She stood well under his height and looked decidedly younger next to him. They looked each other up and down, wearing curious and confused smiles. When their eyes finally met, both smiles multiplied into laughter and they embraced.

"It's been so long!" Gaby exclaimed, muffled into his coat shoulder.

"Too long!" Collins agreed. "What are you doing in New York?"

"I've been here for…well, ages, actually. Since I left." A corner of her mouth jerked up with distain, then dropped back into her smile. "I work at the Cat Scratch with Mimi. Since when have you been here?"

"I lived here before MIT. I can't believe you're at the Cat Scratch! I always guessed there was a wild side to you! I just can't believe it. Small world, huh?"

"That's the truth!"

Collins grabbed her in another hug and the two were laughing happily. Roger was the first to break from his baffled coma and speak.

"What the…?" he stammered, looking between them.

Collins and Gaby exchanged looks and glanced back. "She was a student of mine, up at MIT. My prized computer genius, actually. Brilliant at most anything she did – don't even try to debate that, Gaby, you know it's true – and one of the sweetest people I've ever known."

"Professor, you're being way too nice! At least tell them what a stellar teacher you are! Staying after class with anyone who needed it, helping anyone in classes other than his own, fostering a love of classical music in me. Anything and everything to help out those who sought help."

"It _is_ a small world!" Mimi said. "Gaby, I can't believe you went to MIT! What happened? Why are you stripping, of all things?"

The joy behind Gaby's smile melted away, leaving only muscles forced into a façade. "A lot happened. It just wasn't my calling."

Collins quickly changed the subject. "What were you doing lounging on the floor at this hour, Gaby?"

The breath she had unconsciously been holding jumped out and the warmth returned to her grin. She playfully glanced at Mark, who still crouched where her ankle had been. His eyes were unfocused in her direction but, noticing her glance, smiled with a wince.

"Mark pushed me over." She said this to Collins, but her gaze did not move from Mark. One eyebrow cocked, daring him to challenge. "I told him that his camera was dumb, he got mad and pushed me over. It's a good thing I wasn't near the window. I guarantee he would have defenestrated me, given the chance." Mark's eyes widened, and then squinted in understanding.

"She's right. I couldn't take her anymore and I had to do something. She declined to mention, though, that she threw my camera on the ground first."

Neither dropped their stares. The sides of Mark's mouth twitched, then dropped down again; all traces of Gaby's smile had vanished.

"It was really just my frustration towards his scarf. The colors look horrible together."

"I only pushed her because she acts like a monkey, hanging from railings and whatnot. The camera was just a good cover."

"Your hair is too pointy."

"Your shoes are ratty. They probably smell."

Roger, Mimi, and Collins looked between themselves disbelievingly. What exactly were they doing? They were obviously lying. They were also acting ridiculous, for no apparent reason.

"Yoo hoo!" called a voice from the doorway. Collins had shifted from his place at the door to the kitchen near Mark, exchanging hugs with Mimi and Roger along the way. A curvy figure had replaced him. She wore jeans with overly bright green star patches and a shirt resembling a painting. One arm leaned on the door and the other gave a tiny wave. Kinky dark hair fell around her shoulders. "What's going on here?" All of their eyes jumped up to Maureen; none of them spoke. "Guys? What?"

Gaby was the first; her stern expression erupted in a fit of giggles. Mark, then, started to chuckle and, soon, everyone was laughing. Everyone, except Maureen. She stood, pouting at the joke she wasn't a part of. Joanne came walking up the stairs behind her, carrying several armfuls of groceries that Maureen had apparently had no intention of helping with. Used to strange friends, she pushed past her girlfriend, past Roger and Collins, and set the bags on the counter with a groan. A chuckle escaped her lips when she looked at her pouting Honeybear.

"Pookie! Guys! Stop it!" she protested.

Roger calmed down for a moment. "I guess it's about time you met Maureen, Gaby. This is Maureen; Mo, this is Mimi's friend Gaby from work."

Gaby extended a hand and Maureen scanned her up and down before returning the gesture. "Hello!" she said brightly, "How are _you_? You work at the Cat Scratch?" she cooed. One finger lightly ran down the front of Gaby's shoulder and she took a half step forward. Gaby staggered a half step backwards in response.

Joanne waved from the kitchen. "Maureen? Honeybear? I'm standing right here, remember?" She had finally gotten used to Mo's flirtatious ways; of course, it didn't hurt to remind her to be good occasionally.

Maureen's smile shifted from Gaby to Joanne. "I was just being friendly!"

Roger walked over and dragged Mo by her wrist to the kitchen. "That's very nice, Mo, but you're out of luck. She's straight." Gaby shrugged uncomfortably at Maureen.

"I knew that," she murmured uncertainly.

"Sure you did," Roger whispered, poking her lightly in the side. "Hey Joanne, whadya bring with you?"

She began rifling through the bags on the counter. "I figured you could use some food. How about an early lunch?" The group started to chat happily in consensus and moved towards the kitchen.

Mark had started watching everything from his still-crouched position but found his eyes wander over to Gaby soon after Maureen had arrived. Everything she did entranced him. Her smiles were infectious; even her embarrassment at Maureen's passes was undeniably adorable. In his eyes, she was perfect.

After the bohemians started to shift around, Gaby glanced down at the fair haired man at her feet. She caught him staring and grinned when he turned red and looked away. He looked back cautiously and felt the increasingly familiar dropping of his stomach. She kneeled down to where he was. Her head dropped to one side and she looked at him curiously. Something was strange about him. No one looked at her like he did. He studied her, wanted her, admired her. The men at the Cat Scratch didn't look at her like that. Somehow, however, she couldn't piece it all together and was oblivious to his loving her.

Mark was ready. The sound from the kitchen hardly reached his ears, drowned out by the pounding of blood in his head. This was his only chance. They were somewhat alone and it was probably going to be the only time that night. He had resolved to ask her out that very day and this was his chance. Just as he was about to open his mouth, he heard Gaby do the same.

"You know, I really do like your scarf. Purple is my favorite color and that scarf's pretty close," she said with a wink. She rose to standing and headed into the kitchen.

Mark could hear her exclaiming something about the chips Joanne had brought, but it sounded far away. He had lost his chance. Mark let himself roll backwards and he sat on the floor, knees bent.

"Do you want to go to dinner?" he murmured in Gaby's direction. She didn't a word he said.

* * *

**A/N: I am SO sorry guys! I know this took forever! I have the entire story figured out, so my delay wasn't for lack of plot. I just had the skeleton of chapter and no idea how to flesh it out. I also had no time to write. Today I actually had the impulse to write. Of course, I have two papers due within the next week and rather than work on them, I wrote this chapter. I was also planning on writing a new chapter for my Miracle but I don't have the time at the moment. Soon, though, I promise!**


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